


i could never hate you (i promised)

by Atlanta_Black



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, fight me about it, he doesn't take the pencils back, i hope it breaks your heart, i've had the phrase, it's gonna be a thing but when, love triangles are for assholes, poly ships are where it's at, pre trio relationship, stuck in my head for literal months so here we finally are, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 10:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18341393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: He doesn’t give the pencils back. (This is important in so many ways)But sometimes he runs a finger along the edge of the box and thinks of what Sabrina’s smile looks like on paper and how one of the pencils is the same shade of the dress she wore to her 16th birthday party where he had promised promised that nothing would ever make him hate her.





	i could never hate you (i promised)

**Author's Note:**

> so, I finished watching season 1 of this show ages ago, don't remember when actually but I've had the phrase "he doesn't take the pencils back" stuck in my head ever since and I finally got around to writing this. 
> 
> I may also be procrastinating on my piece for the spring exchange because writers block
> 
> Also, this wasn't beta-ed so yeah, oops

He doesn’t give the pencils back.

 

They sit on his bedside table and every morning he wakes up and they seem to stare directly at him.

 

He doesn’t use the pencils.

 

Is _still still_ too scared, too wary of what magic can do. Sabrina says that they’re perfectly normal pencils except that they never wear down.

 

But how is he supposed to know that? How is he supposed to trust her after Tommy?

He doesn’t give the pencils back. _(This is important in so many ways)_

 

But sometimes he runs a finger along the edge of the box and thinks of what Sabrina’s smile looks like on paper and how one of the pencils is the same shade of the dress she wore to her 16th birthday party where he had _promised promised_ that nothing would ever make him hate her.

 

He doesn’t use the pencils.

 

But he wakes up from dreams filled with nothing but her laughter and her smiles and always the words

_You promised_

_You promised_

_You promised_

 

He stares at the pencils and remembers the sound of her dress as she spun in his living room and he _aches aches aches_ with missing her.

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

There are three times in that last month that stand out in his head when he thinks of the last few times he saw her.

 

Three times that make him want to run straight to her house and ask her to please please please give them another chance.

 

Except, he doesn’t want that. Does he?

.

.

.

.

**One.**

 

She’s sitting at his kitchen table and has tears in her eyes and even through the anger he wants to hold her. Even through the heartbreak and the pain and fear and absolutely blistering anger he _still still_ wants to hold her hand and promise that _no, he doesn’t hate her_

_He could never hate her_

_Could never do anything but_

_Love her_

_Love her_

_Love her_

 

He makes her walk away. And he holds a gun to his brothers head and ends whatever twisted half life he’s been living.

 

Holds a gun to the one person he loved more than _her_ and puts a bullet through his brain.

 

.

.

.

.

**Interlude.**

 

There’s a boy who calls himself Nicholas Scratch and he speaks about Sabrina the same way that Harvey thinks about her.

 

Speaks about her with a type of reverence that makes his blood burn and makes him want to say _no, she’s mine back off you don’t get to stake your claim on a girl that I can do nothing but love--_

 

But Harvey no longer has that right and that knowledge is burning in his chest.

 

The boy who calls himself Nicholas saves his life. Saves his life and tells him to think about forgiving Sabrina. Looks him in the eyes and tells him that Sabrina loves him. That she would die for him.

 

And he knew that, knows that, but hearing it from someone else’s mouth is still a jarring feeling that settles down in his bones.

 

Nicholas leaves once the danger has passed. Takes one last lingering glance around his house and gives him a handshake that holds for a beat to long and lets his eyes trail from Harvey’s sock clad feet to the hair clinging to his neck.

 

“It’s been fun, Kinkle.” he says in that all knowing way he seems to have about him and Harvey wonders what Sabrina sees in this dude.

 

He wonders but he still stands in his doorway and watches as Nicholas walks away from his house. Stands in the doorway and thinks about Sabrina’s lightness and Nicholas’s dark hair and wonders where he fits into this story.

.

.

.

.

**Two.**

 

She finds him in the library and god, he’s never seen her look so fucking heartbroken.

 

There’s a seemingly permanent downturn to her lips when she used to do nothing but smile. Her eyes are bright with tears as if she never really stopped crying after that night in his kitchen. He wants to draw her, wants to sketch out her sadness on paper and then erase it like maybe that will make it go away.

 

_You must hate me_

 

_I could never hate you_

 

_Remember, i promised you on your birthday_

 

Her answering smile is so relieved but still so sad and his fingers are twitching with the want still clinging to his bones. His muscles remember what it was like to hold her and just don’t understand why they aren’t doing so now.

 

She leaves with a thousand different conversations still hanging between them and he _wishes wishes wishes_ he had kissed her. Wishes she had never spoken to him again. Wishes he didn’t love her so much that hatred felt fake. Wishes---

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

**Three.**

 

He goes to her house with the pencils in his back pocket.

 

He has every intention of giving them back to her. The knowledge of his dad’s newfound sobriety still lingering in the back of his mind. Lingering at the base of his neck like a bad itch that he can’t reach.

 

He has the pencils in his back pocket.

 

But she comes rushing into the room, trying to seem unaffected and her eyes are so hopeful that for just a moment he forgets why he’s there.

 

The pencils are all but burning a hole into his pocket.

 

He can see Ambrose leaning against the wall behind Sabrina, eyes sharp and warning Harvey to not hurt her. _(he’s already done that enough)_

 

Sabrina’s words are all so cautious and he hates hates that she feels afraid of him. Hates she feels like she has to walk on eggshells around him. She had never been scared to speak her mind in front of him before and he wants that back, wants her back, wants to forget everything that has ever made her distrust him.

 

The pencils never leave his back pocket.

 

He doesn’t remember what excuse he made up for coming over. But he remembers the way her mouth pulled tight when he shied away from her hug. Remembers the way her lips quivered and her hands shook and the sinking feeling in his gut that he would never be able to look at her the same again.

 

He leaves. Sets the pencils on his bedside table. But he doesn’t take them back.

 


End file.
